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I escape Sunday morning, endorphins flowing - neurotransmitters firing, for a gratifying taste of Peggy's sweet honey. Determined to avenge last year's humiliating abort and rehabilitate all that Doctor Flowers stands for. Last year was, and this year will now be the Silver Anniversary of my backroads expeditions to be challenged by forecasted rains, credit card collapses, swine flu, hemlock blight, seat rot and persistent inability to pee. Nonetheless, feet first will be the only way I return early this year unless, of course, the honey runs out.
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